Truth or Dare
by SilkenDreamer
Summary: Ruby Lucas had been looking forward to a night on the town but fate apparently had other plans as she finds herself locked in the Diner storeroom with the town psychiatrist. Truths are revealed and dares get out of hand when a game for two is started. Rated for naughtiness.One-Shot.


"Truth." This was ridiculous. It was Saturday night and though Storybrooke was no hub of nightlife it was at least a night off and she had been looking forward to drinks with some friends. Instead she had been accidentally locked in the Diner storage room along with the town psychiatrist who – it turned out – sucked at playing truth or dare. It wasn't as if they had to. Surprisingly enough, once she'd come to terms with the fact that they wouldn't get out til morning when Granny came to open, the conversation had been fun. Dr. Hopper was sweet and funny and he didn't assume off the bat that because she had great legs she was stupid. They'd talked, probably more than she'd talked to him during her life in Storybrooke until now combined. Then she'd found a bottle of the red wine the diner stocked and passing it between them the idea of truth or dare had swum into her head. The quiet Dr. Hopper was an enigma and she wanted to solve him the way she did everything in life – fast. Truth or dare seemed to her slightly inebriated brain like a reasonable way to do this.

"How many girlfriends have you had?" He took a sip from the bottle and looked like he really had to consider this question.

"Two. Your turn."

"Truth."

"Tell me something about you nobody knows." At least he was grasping the concept now, even if the question was ridiculously general. He passed her the bottle and she leaned back against the packing crates. Narrowing her eyes to pick a secret she didn't mind revealing she wondered why he had only ever had two girlfriends. He was certainly not unattractive with his broad shoulders and charming eyes, he was a doctor and thought his sense of dress was a tad dated it had something of sexy professor going for it. Ruby didn't get it. Had it been a meeting of the souls maybe and they'd been together a long time? With some quiet but pretty lady who liked to read medical journals before falling asleep and was sweetly accommodating in bed? She shook her head. Why on earth was she imagining what kind of woman his past girlfriend had been in bed? And why did it make her a bit jealous? Maybe because she'd never be that type. The type who attracted decent guys.

"I like to read."

"Nobody else knows that?"

"No. I don't really talk about it. But I do. Love to read, I mean." She shifted, her butt going numb from sitting on the floor. "Truth or dare."

"Truth."

"Was your girlfriend your soul mate?"

"I thought so at the time. But no, as it turns out. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"It may be impolite but…how old are you?" She hated that question. Were she not under obligation to answer according to the holy rules of truth or dare she'd lie. Taking a swallow from the bottle, she muttered,

"Twenty-eight."

"Really? You don't look it."

"I know." But it was embarrassing to admit, as she knew very well she put up a front of petulant twenty-something for most people. Because she wanted to be twenty-something. That meant life hadn't passed her by yet, that she still had a chance to get out of Storybrooke and do something. Make something of her life. Not be a small-town waitress until she was too old and bitter to leave. "How old are you?" It was his turn to look uncomfortable.

"Forty-eight." She angled her head. Aside from his hairline receding a tad you couldn't tell.

"You don't look it either. Here," she passed the wine back and he had a sip. Comfortable warmth was spreading through her, making her limbs feel loose and she angled her head, wondering if it was the beginning tipsiness or if he had always been this attractive. He had a strong face, cute blue eyes and great hair curling over his collar. The suit was somewhat rumpled compared to his usual tidy appearance and made her want to ruffle him up some more. His wide shoulders were leaning against a crate, his long legs crossed at the ankle in front of him. A thought entered her head. A dangerous, irresponsible - and therefore wholly appealing to Ruby - thought. She knew something else they could do to pass the time besides playing truth or dare. Although she wasn't sure he'd go for it... She hadn't seen his gaze drop once in all the years she'd worked at the Diner. Could he be secretly gay? She sent him a considering glance and decided against it. Less likely but seeming to be the case was that he was thoroughly decent and if he had ever checked her out it had been discreet. Ruby ran her tongue over her teeth. She liked a challenge. She liked the soft-spoken psychiatrist. There was a long wait ahead.

Deciding she liked the idea more and more she shrugged out of her cardigan, leaving a rather diminutive camisole.

"It's a bit warm." His eyes were fastened on hers; not dipping for a second but she thought there may be the slightest blush on the tips of his ears. He looked a bit surprised as the room was actually a bit chilly but politely agreed. "Truth." He took a considering sip from the bottle. The wine seemed to be getting to him a little bit, his posture not as ramrod straight as before and he'd loosened his tie a bit.

"I don't really know what to ask…" She tilted her head and gazed at him from under lowered lashes.

"It can be anything. Whatever you ask, I'll answer." His eyes zeroed in on her and her breath caught.

"Why are you convinced you're worth less than others?"

"What?" He brought a leg up to hook his elbow over the knee.

"You don't seem to be happy with yourself and you are given to self-destructive behavior, all the while knowing exactly what you're doing. You seem to think you're not worthy of any attention besides that you get for your appearance. It's as if you feel you deserve less in life than others, yet you want more. Why is that?"

"Are you psychoanalyzing me, Doctor Hopper?" It was his turn to tilt his head as his eyes warmed,

"Are you deflecting my question with humor, Ms. Lucas?" He looked so damn sweet, his eyes a bit owlish behind his glasses and his tie askew, just waiting and ready to listen. Sullenly she stared into the wall for a few seconds. How did he even know? Most people took her image at face value, thinking she was a stupid bimbo with ambitions beyond her horizons, an easy lay and a troublemaker. And that suited her fine. She didn't really want anyone to know her, not after…Not after Peter. She'd lost part of herself that day; he'd taken it with him wherever he was. Before she'd realized what she was doing the words started falling from her lips.

"It was a Thursday in November, and I was sixteen. I'd fought with Granny and I decided to run away. It was a stupid teenage whim. I went to my boyfriend, Peter, told him I was leaving and he…" She cleared her throat. It had been twelve years ago but she could still remember the details as if it had been yesterday. The smell of sodden leaves coming in through the window mingling with the smoke on her breath from the cigarettes she mostly smoked to infuriate her grandmother. It mixed with the sweet scent of the drugstore hairspray she'd shoplifted that claimed to smell like bubblegum and after that day she'd never smoked again, or used that hairspray. His voice when he'd told her, standing in his boy's room filled with laundry despite his mother's best efforts, the peeling posters of sport stars squinting off into the distance and the cast of the first season of Baywatch staring down at them. The narrow bed where she'd let him get to second base creaked when he rose from it and proclaimed he was coming with her. His eyes, the exact shade of hazelnut brown they'd shone when he told her he'd come, because he loved her and it would be an adventure. His arms when they hugged, wrapped up in a romantic daydream of what a life without rules would be like.

"…let me drive his car. He loved that thing." The beaten up black exterior, the red leather seats he thought was the height of cool. The cassette player that was always on if he was in the car. They'd sped along out of Storybrooke, blasting Bon Jovi and shouting in glee as the wind from the rolled down windows whipped around them. "There was…ice. I didn't know the weather had turned, I wasn't careful, didn't think. We had almost got out of town when the car lost traction and I…I couldn't regain control of the car." The sounds haunted her still, Peter's shocked gasp, the screeching of metal, the squeal of rubber tires on asphalt, the horrible crunching of numerous bones breaking. Then silence. Just silence. "I broke my arm and got a cut on my forehead. Peter died that day. It…It's not something you get over. Never fully. His parents blamed me. I blame me. So maybe I don't get close to people easily. Because I know that one day they might not be there so it's easier to keep them at a distance." She leaned her head back against the crate and drew a deep breath. "Happy?"

"Did you ever talk to someone after this?"

"Like a psychiatrist? No. Are you offering?" she joked.

"If you like. It sounds like you know yourself well enough to realize the root of the problem. You blame yourself and no matter if I told you it wasn't your fault, you'll still believe it is. You need to forgive yourself and only you can do that. Only then can you really move on."

"It was my fault. He wouldn't have been in that car if it weren't for me. He might have regained control of the car if I weren't the one driving."

"Might. He might've gone for a joyride and hit the same spot of ice, you can't know that. It's true that he was in the car because of you, because that's where he wanted to be. Do you think he would blame you if you could talk to him right now?" She started. She'd never really thought about what Peter would think himself, not after his parents had laid all the blame on her.

"I…No, he wouldn't blame me. He would call me stupid for thinking it and say it was a ridiculous accident." A snorted laugh escaped her as she could hear him in her head. "And that he was disappointed there was no explosion when we crashed."

"So maybe once in a while you could afford to take Peter's side and not feel overwhelmingly guilty. Remember, you don't deserve less in life because of an accident." The silence stretched for a while as she realized she'd never told anyone else of that day.

"You're pretty good at your job, aren't you?" He shrugged,

"I'm good at listening." She wouldn't claim a weight was suddenly lifted from her shoulders and that she felt free and happy but she thought she had gotten a little bit closer to believing that one day she'd be able to forgive herself. He took another sip of the wine and handed the bottle back to her. Accepting it, she noticed he had beautiful hands, narrow and elegant with long fingers and neat nails. An artist's hands. The urge to have them run over her skin was sudden and urgent and Ruby shook her head. Having a quick sip of the wine she thought of what to ask him next. She'd pretty much bared her soul with the previous one, it had to be a good one.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth." She'd figured as much. Handing him back the wine she decided to take it slow, after all – they had all night.

"Who do you think is the most attractive woman in Storybrooke?" Please don't say Mary Margaret or Tiana, she thought, her two school friends probably both capable of claiming that title. Uneasy again, he lowered the bottle, fiddled with the label, glancing away.

"Well, I'm sure you're well aware any man would have to be blind since birth to choose anyone but you." She knew it was a matter of taste, some men preferring the vivacious, dark haired Tiana or the sweet natured and always chic M.M. and was happy to know his tastes leaned more towards her appearance. It would make things easier.

"I'm vain enough to like hearing it." She gave him a feline smile and he chuckled.

"Vain? You're one of the least vain people I've ever met. You know your appearance too well to be vain. It's natural and just part of you. Truly vain people think about their appearance and especially what others think of their appearance. You don't." Did he have X-ray vision to her head or something? He'd so far seen through all her put on acts and had yet to start banging on the door or dig a tunnel with a spoon to escape. "Knowing you are attractive doesn't make you vain, Ruby, it's simply part of what makes you you, like knowing you're good with numbers or enjoy soda bread."

"I'm good with numbers but I hate soda bread. Give me croissants any day."

"How are you not -" She pulled at the hair tie securing the bun at the back of her head and shook the loose waves free, sighing as the weight of it was taken off her neck. Running a hand through it she looked up to see he'd been distracted by the move. Excellent. "-three hundred pounds?" He cleared his throat and she laughed. "Sorry, I've just seen the way you eat."

"Lucky genes. Truth." He pulled at his tie and unbuttoned the first button in his shirt and her heart tripped over a beat. Just the suggestion of undressing had her pulse racing and she enjoyed the sensation. It had been a long time since a man had been able to get her this excited by doing this little.

"What do you dream of?" At the moment it was to hear that voice deepen further, calling her name and urge her on. She shook her head again. Was it the man or the wine? Had she never talked to him long enough before to realize he was an attractive, intelligent and caring man? Perhaps she hadn't, only sparing quick chats about general town news when he came in, never giving him a second glance. He was far from her usual type and must've somehow slipped under her radar. It added another layer to the excitement, she knew him yet had barely spoken to him.

"I want to travel. See places, meet people. Leave this place." Shifting to kneel she bent over him to get the wine standing between them. Not wholly necessary to reach it but a classic move for a reason. "Truth or dare?"

"How about we finish up this game?"

"Oh no, you can't finish the game without having at least one dare."

"So if I choose dare we can finish it?"

"Certainly," she purred, as the trap started to swing close. Taking a sip from the bottle she slowly put it back down, staying on all fours, feeling the expectation within her rise.

"Right. Dare." A wolfish grin slid over her features as her hair fell around her face.

"Kiss me." His head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers as his mouth fell open in shock.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. A dare is a dare."

"But I…" He swallowed, gesturing a bit helplessly and starting to object. Then his wish to have it over with quickly seemed to win over his next objection. Pushing his glasses further up his nose he closed the distance between them and placed his lips over hers. They were nice, warm and smooth but stayed impassive before he pulled back.

"That wasn't really a kiss, Doctor. Let me show you how it's done." Then before he could protest she grabbed him by his tie, conveniently hooking her fingers above the knot and pulling him close. As her lips met his she heard him draw breath sharply before he changed the angle and a flare of desire shot up inside her. As he took charge of the kiss Ruby relazed the good Doctor didn't need any coaching on the topic at all. Then she stopped thinking as his tongue slid over hers, claiming her in a way she'd never expected from him. Edging closer she felt his hands find her waist and pull her closer until she was comfortably seated on his lap, his hand cradling the back of her head, pulling gently at her hair. Her hands had found their way to grasp the lapels of his jacket, to keep herself in place or to keep him from breaking the kiss she didn't know. The desire he'd woken swept through her like a forest fire. It was a towering, seething heat that spread, his hands the wind that urged the flames. Just when she thought she'd gotten used to it, feeling the heat lick over her skin, the tongue of the flames dance over it, it'd change, send up the sparks and the burn would intensify. If she'd been in a metaphorical mood she might have thought it were her defenses going up in flames.

As it were she only knew that she'd intended it to be a laugh. A joke to pass the time, and at best she'd get a decent make-out session out of it, and at worst she'd get to see the adorable doctor blush. But as the fire consumed her she realized she didn't want to stop, didn't want to haul back the careening feelings and go back to sit opposite him knowing what he could do to her.

The dull storage room faded, the chill in the air faded, the scrape of concrete against her knees faded. There was only fire and need and him. Her hands found his tie again and impatiently pulled the knot free, carelessly tossing the scrap of silk behind her. Slithering her hands under the shoulders of his jacket she pushed it off him and in the second he had to lower his arms to get free of the garment the cold stole over her. Then his arms were back around her, now just covered by the cotton of his shirt and she could feel the muscles in his forearms bunching against her back as he shifted her even closer. His hands travelled up her back to gently wind in her hair and a moan escaped her. The noise seemed to bring him back to reality and he stiffened and pulled back, a shocked expression on his face. Their breath mingled as they stared at one another, breathing hard.

"I…This is probably not such a good idea. We should stop." Ruby leaned back and gave him a considering look.

"Do you want to stop?"

"Ah-no, I…Yes, I mean…Ruby, you're twenty years younger than me."

"And?"

"And-" he said it a bit pointedly, "it wouldn't be right. You've been drinking, we barely know each other and I'm old enough to be your father."

"You're not though."

"Not what?"  
"You're not my father. I am not drunk, it takes more than half a bottle of wine to get me drunk and we've known each other for years. We're both unattached adults. I don't see a problem. Unless…" She shifted deliberately on his lap. "You don't actually want me." She could clearly feel he did and saw him swallow, his internal struggle continuing. "Truth or dare, Archie?" She leaned back again and slowly pulled her camisole off, saw his eyes drop helplessly to her breasts rising from the white bra she was wearing. The he met her eyes again and breathed,

"Truth."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No…" His hands found their way to her thighs, pulling her close again. A breath from her lips he whispered, "Truth or dare…Ruby?" She brought her arms around his neck again.

"Dare."

"Don't stop." A smile stole over her lips before she placed them against his. The fire flared anew, devouring her, slamming through her like fist. His hands travelled from her thighs to skim her waist, trail her back and wind in her hair. Gently he tugged and with a small sound of protest from stopping the kiss Ruby arched her neck. Then his lips trailed to her neck and she forgot what she was disappointed about. As if they'd done this a hundred times before he found a tender spot where her shoulder met her neck that sent her blood boiling, crashing like waves on a shore at her center, pounding insistently. Setting his teeth to it Ruby felt her breath hitch and her hands clasped and unclasped behind his neck in helpless response to the feelings rushing through her. What was happening, she wondered dazedly? She was usually in control, in fact she was often taking the lead but as Archie Hopper kissed his way down her neck she could only sit, frozen in shock as she burnt from within. The desire trickled like molten lava to gather at her core, threatening to spill, burst and erupt. Feeling full of need, yet empty for more she tried to urge him on wordlessly. Her hands found his shirt buttons and prepared to tear, a deep, feral groan escaping her as she relished the hurry. But his hands came up to hers, gently moving them and pulling the shirt off over his head.

"I only have one shirt with me," he murmured and Ruby marveled that he could still think of practicalities when she was ready to come from sitting on his lap and kissing him. Then her eyes travelled over his wide shoulders, the sturdy arms and pale skin and forgot all about practicalities again. He wasn't as built as the men she usually went for, or as young, but under the dull shirt he didn't look as if he spent his days in an office or was closing in on forty-nine. Letting her hands wander over the expanse of his chest she purred in appreciation at the soft skin covering hard muscle.

"Hold on," he spoke and Ruby woke from her transfixed staring and wondered if he'd changed his mind. Then she realized he'd meant it literally as he tightened his grip on her and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. It looked like they'd been made only for making you feel safe and protected, sheltered in his grasp and for a moment the self-made cynic, Ruby, let herself dream. A side she rarely let out. After a moment of shuffling she found herself lowered to the floor, his jacket under her and his blue eyes above her.

Almost reverently he used the hand not occupied supporting his weight by slipping one of her bra straps down, following it with his finger to the edge of the cup. Just a fingertip, where the cup met the strap and Ruby felt the need build, ready to beg him to place his hands where she wanted them when he woke from his reverie, skimming the fingertip along the mound of her breast.

"Archie, please," she arched under him and surprised, he met her eyes. Whatever he saw reflected in hers seemed to shock him as well as delight and she saw the blue deepen a shade. With a decisive flick he unhooked the front clasp of her bra and she sighed in relief, forgetting the same instant she thought it she was impressed he'd seen it was a front hooked bra.

Her nipples were hardened peaks, seeming to strain towards him already and he didn't waste any time as he lowered his head to them and sucked one into his mouth. Worrying it with his tongue Ruby thought she could feel everything he did to it somehow on the inside and it twisted the smoldering coils tighter, fanned the embers, made them spark. When his teeth gently closed on it, Ruby keened. To her relief she felt his hand that had been stroking soothing circles over her stomach travel lower, find the top of her short skirt. He hesitated for a moment and eagerly Ruby pushed her hips off the floor. It seemed to be all the encouragement he needed and in a swift move he'd bunched it at her waist, the cool air waking goose bumps over her heated flesh. She felt his hot hands travel up her bare thigh and brush over the fabric of her panties and shivered. She felt his hands gently explore the expanse of silk covering her and the ghosting caresses had her raring. Impatiently she brought his hand where she wanted it, pushed it against her and as stars burst behind her eyelids she heard him groan. Taking her blunt hint, he set to work, easily reading her responses to alter his movements. He seemed to be as good reading gasps and curses as he was emotions and Ruby felt the fire burn higher and higher. His fingers were still rubbing her through the silk, the friction of it delicious and his tongue on her nipple still sending sparks into the molten heat. Her hips moved on their own accord now, jerking against him in almost painful circles as her breaths came in bursts.

"Ah, Archie, I'm…" She only got as far as half the sentence as the heat broke her last defense, snapped it in two and gleefully raced through her body, taking and taking as it swirled higher. Breathing hard as well he rose to his knees, smiling in a way that had the first orgasm barely dying as the next one started to build, the fire insatiable and hunting for more. He hooked his fingers in the lining of her underwear and pulled it down her legs, reaching her feet. In quick moves he rid her of the six inch heels and white knee socks she wore, along with her panties and lying on the store room floor wearing only her skirt bunched at her waist as the town psychiatrist's eyes roamed over her she felt the heat burn hotter.

Archie hooked his arms under her knees and started to lower his head to her folds but Ruby stopped him. She couldn't take another orgasm and burn this way for another. She needed this to end before she was burnt out completely.

"No, I need you." Hurriedly she sat and knelt in front of him, her hands flying over his belt and fly. "Now." Lying back on the jacket again she saw him struggle for control over himself for a moment before he pushed his underwear down and sprung free. Oh, my, she thought to herself, wasn't it always the quiet ones?

Unable to wait and not caring if she looked as ready and willing as she was she spread her legs, held her hand out for him. He returned to hover over her again and positioned himself at her entrance.

"Hurry!" she urged him and then she was grateful he didn't as he entered her. Slowly pushing into her Ruby struggled to relax as he filled her, stretching her to the very limit. Then he brought his lips back to her nipple as the last inch slid in and a different sort of burning took over. Feeling completely full and positively itching for friction Ruby carefully arched and sank against him. The friction in places she'd never felt it made her wonder if she'd gone cross-eyed from sheer pleasure. Shuddering with it she sped up and Archie seemed to catch on, surging into her in slow, hard thrusts. She could feel he was holding back but it felt too good for her to pity him. He kept hitting a point that built pressure, like a boiling kettle on a stove with hot steam pounding for release inside. When his fingers found her clit and pinched lightly the lid sprung off and the hot steam spurted out, winding and blindingly hot. Her cry as she came seemed to set Archie free from his control and he sped up, his thrusts growing faster and forcing her open again. And Ruby had no time to feel the heat die before it was born again this time. She could feel his every thrust all the way to her toes and panting in delight she brought up her legs to wrap them around his waist. He caught one of her legs under the knee and pushed it higher, using his weight to hold it in place and reached even deeper. The sensation had curses and prayers falling from her lips before he covered them with his own. Her arms wound around his neck as he pounded into her and felt, to her surprise, the molten heat rising faster and faster until it spilled, rushing and burning her every limb until they fell uselessly to the floor, burnt out.

When Ruby could move again and the ringing in her ears had stopped she found Archie slumped on the floor next to her, his trousers slung low and still wearing his shoes. She was still wearing her skirt and nothing else. What in the name of all that was holy had just happened? Had she just had mind-blowing, earthshattering, incredible beyond compare sex with Archie Hopper of all people? And, since she knew she definitely had from the slight soreness between her thighs and the feeling of being taller, brighter, better rushing through her body still, the more important questions was, what was she supposed to do about it? How was she supposed to bring him his usual breakfast when she knew how he could affect her? How could she see him through the window of the Diner walking his dog when she knew what having him inside of her felt like?

You are an idiot, Ruby Lucas. A first class moron. You find a decent man, the type you claim doesn't exist, and then you proceed to trick him into sex on a concrete floor like some needy airhead and beg him to take you. Shaking her head at herself she found her camisole and tugged it on. Pulling down her skirt she sat, gingerly and let her eyes travel over the man who still seemed at a loss for words. What did he think? Did he think she was as easy as people said? Why wouldn't he, her inner voice sneered, you've put that image there yourself. You have to sleep in the bed as you made it, Granny's lecturing voice repeated her favorite idiom. Well, Ruby had slept in less beds than many thought, what did it matter what he thought? What they all thought? She straightened her neck and prepared for the worst as he turned over. Whatever she'd thought she'd see – glee, satisfaction, superiority – wasn't there. Instead, worry creased his brow and he sat up.

"Ah…I…I'm sorry, Ruby, if I took advantage of you. I only…" She could only blink in surprise. He thought_ he'd_ taken advantage of _her_?

"I don't think you were the one taking advantage." He found his discarded shirt and tugged it on, angling his head to look at her. She suddenly felt very small.

"You were vulnerable after talking about…your past and I…I should know better." He gestured helplessly and she couldn't help thinking he looked adorable, with his mussed hair and gentlemanly, if misplaced, convictions. She shook her head, suddenly amused at the situation. What an unlikely pair they were.

"Archie, I decided this would happen long before we talked about Peter. Well, maybe not all of this…" She looked down at her crumpled clothes.

"Do you…wish it didn't?" Looking up she saw his blue eyes were worried and she realized suddenly that he probably had less experience than her of rolling off when you were done, saying thanks and bye and leaving it at that.

"No, no, that's not it. It was…amazing," her hands fluttered uselessly as she tried to convey in words what the experience had been. "I just wondered if…" _Come on, Ruby_, she urged herself, _for once tell the truth, he deserves as much_! She drew a deep breath and met his eyes, held them, "If you think less of me now."

"Of course not." The response was immediate but she sensed no lie in it. "Ruby, I can't lie and say that I've never thought about…I mean," He cleared his throat and started over. "I'd never even hoped I'd get close enough to touch you, Ruby. It overwhelmed me. If there's a fault to be found, it has to lie with me." The thought staggered her. Of course she knew there were men who found her attractive, who probably hoped and quite a few who did rather a bit more than hope in pursuit of this wish, but that Archie Hopper was one of them just seemed impossible. He was smart and considerate, kind and funny, a regular pillar of the community in Storybrooke and she was just a Diner waitress with genes lucky enough for good tips. But when she saw how he looked at her she felt like she was more. For him this had been no simple, no-ties quickie to make the time pass. _And neither it was for you, so just admit it and stop treating this as if it were an everyday occurrence_!

"Was there really a fault? If there was, I'd say it lies with both of us." He ran a hand through his hair and smiled.  
"That's very perceptive of you." The corners of his eyes creased and she felt a tug at her heart. It surprised her. She hadn't felt anything close to move her heart in the twelve years since Peter had died and here it was, fluttering like a butterfly drunk on the first day of summer in her chest.

"Archie, I'm not ready for…" For what? For her heart quivering in the throes of waking from a long sleep? For thinking of a man instead of a boy? For letting go of the boy and reaching for the man?

He couldn't feel the same, she thought. It didn't matter how soft his eyes were or how his low voice only spoke truth. He couldn't be interested in her for anything but her looks, just like the others. Maybe he was just better at hiding it. He seemed to see her struggling and leaned back, giving her some space.

"What's your favorite book?" In surprise a laugh escaped her.

"The Count Of Monte Cristo." He nodded and found his glasses somewhere, pushing them up and blinking in relief.

"Good choice. I'd lean more towards The Three Musketeers if I had to pick a Dumas but it's a great book."

"Monte Cristo is so much better. It's got revenge, love, intrigue…" As they kept arguing over books she didn't notice herself relaxing again until she felt her eyelids get heavy. The next thing she felt was a familiar grip on her shoulder.

"Ruby, wake up." Her grandmother was bent over her, a worried look in her eyes. "Are you alright? Getting locked in here all night, you must be starving. And poor Archie too, I feel bad for asking him to help you with those boxes. Getting stuck in a cold room with no food or water all night…"

"We were okay. It was fine, Granny." She sat up and stretched, noting that Archie's tweed jacket fell off from where it had been covering her. "Where is he?"

"Oh, I woke him up first and he had to rush off, something about a morning appointment, wouldn't even have breakfast." And she'd managed to sleep through it. The night before felt as a dream and as Granny left her to rub sleep from her eyes she wondered if she'd maybe dreamt it all, had wine and snoozed, her mind making up the feelings she thought he'd woken in her. But as she got up to fold the jacket she heard a rustling in the pocket and curious she fished the note out. In old-fashioned, leaning handwriting was her name on the note she must've crumbled in her sleep. Unfolding it she smiled as she saw the only line on the paper:  
"Haste is a poor counselor", take your time, Ruby,

A.

The quote was from The Count of Monte Cristo and her heart did the quick tug as she saw he remembered and at the implications of it. He was waiting for her move but giving her time to decide what that would be. Looking up from the note, folding his jacket over her arm, Ruby wondered what on earth her move would be.

It had taken her time, she thought as she stood outside his door. So much had happened, inside of her and in the town since they'd gotten locked up in the storeroom a few weeks ago. So much had changed. Less than a week ago she'd felt trapped in the Diner, stifled by the thought of staying there forever. Now it was part of her heritage, the roots she had, her family. It was all tied to the Diner but she hadn't been able to see it before. Hadn't let herself see it, determined to leave the town and Peter behind, not realizing both of them were too much part of her to ever be left behind. She went up to the door of his house, hearing Pongo bark in greeting, smelling her even before Archie had opened the door. With a knock just to be safe Ruby drew a breath and held it. Travelling was still something she would do, she promised herself, but she would always be happy to come back, to tend the Diner and see the people who were her family now. Emma, M.M, David, Henry and Granny, of course. And maybe, just maybe, there would be room for another in the circle. It was time to put the old, insecure Ruby to rest and realize what Archie had told her had been true. She didn't have to punish herself any more. She was, or was going to make herself, stronger, more independent and someone who people relied on for more than a view of long legs. Then he opened the door and she smiled.  
"Archie."

"Ruby." He gestured for an overjoyed Pongo to sit and leaned against the doorframe. "Is something wrong?" She guessed he thought so because of the late hour. Nothing was, except for she couldn't bring herself to sleep with this one nagging thing keeping her awake. She had a chance and she had been wasting it for weeks. No more, she'd promised herself. No more hiding.

"No, not at all. I just came to ask you something?"  
"Okay." He nodded and she smiled. Of course he'd accept it, just like that, not inquire why or ask if it could wait 'til morning.

"I came to ask you…" She stepped closer, felt the warmth of him radiate through her clothes, the scent of him filling her head. "Truth or dare?"

A/N: Okay, this was meant to be about half as long and pure smut but no matter how hard I try these two characters refuse to be oversimplified. I both love and hate them for that. In any case, I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading! S.D.


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